Absolutely Delicious
by Manchester
Summary: Halloween AU - Once again, it is proven that men will do anything for the women they love: climbing the highest mountain, sailing the furthest seas, and Angel dressing up in one of Ethan Rayne's costumes.
1. Chapter 1

On Halloween morning before school started, Angel looked up from his appalled study of the clothing lying upon the table inside the cellar of the Crawford Street mansion, and he coldly spoke: "No."

Xander Harris' face that presently bore a grin of pure evil didn't alter a fraction, as this gleeful teenager tried again. "But if you do, I'll quit calling you Deadboy, Captain Hairgel, Sir Broods-A-Lot-"

"If this is the way you usually try to talk people into things, I strongly suggest changing your negotiating style, yah little shite," snarled the Irish vampire, the stress of the moment causing his brogue to strongly manifest itself.

The Sunnydale native considered that for a few moments, until he finally shook his head and informed a glowering Angel, "Nah, it's worked okay so far. Look, you already know my feelings about you, but let me just say this: you put on that costume tonight, and I'll really, really respect you for having the sheer guts to wear it!"

In his seat at the head of the table, Angel beadily eyed the earnest teenager trying his utmost to persuade the older (much older) man to dress up for Halloween, until then this vampire cursed with a soul had his displeased expression suddenly turn blank, while his body shifted a fraction in the chair, to promptly produce a very familiar sound that easily communicated the utter disdain that demon felt towards Xander.

"BRRRPPPPP!"

"Nice one," admitted a gagging Xander, edging back a few paces and waving his hand in front of his face to disperse the toxic fumes now hanging in the cellar's atmosphere. Suddenly halting in his tracks, the young man then shot a puzzled glance at a smirking Angel, asking with honest wonder in his tone, "Hey, you don't breathe and you sure as hell don't eat solid food, either! How's it possible for you to cut the cheese anyway?"

The demon haughtily answered, "Live in ignorance, Harris. Now, aren't you going to be late for school? Go bother your teachers, or preferably, anyone else in the whole world."

Grumbling, Xander turned away and he started heading towards the stairs leading up from the cellar to the ground floor. Still continuing to mutter under his breath, that teenager was almost at the first tread when Angel caught with his inhuman hearing, "…Buffy would've liked it…"

"_Hold it!_" snapped the vampire, abruptly sitting straight up in his chair, as his visitor immediately halted and then swung around, a surprised look on his features, as Xander now gazed directly into Angel's own suspicious face. Persisting in a very mistrustful tone, Angel demanded, "What does Buffy have to do with…with _that?_" At this stressed final word, a former member of the Scourge of Europe pointed a decisive index finger at the costume lying limply upon the table.

Taking a few steps back towards this furniture, Xander then stopped, as he shrugged and answered, "Nothing, Deadboy. I picked it out on my own without telling her, though I have to say now, the Buffster would've been pleased as punch to see you in it."

The very faintest trace of betrayal then passed over Angel's countenance, as he sputtered, "She'd have laughed at me, like I was some sort of clown-?"

"Ack! Ack!" interrupted Xander with his horrified yelps, as that apprehensive boy abruptly clapped his hands over his ears to block out that ghastly utterance, with him further frantically emphasizing, "Do NOT use the c-word!"

A bewildered Angel stared at his guest now almost as pale as the vampire himself, and also fearfully lowering his hands while shooting nervous looks around the cellar, as if Xander actually expected the sudden appearance out of thin air some maniacally-grinning comic circus performer with their enormous red shoes, white facial greasepaint, and a ready bucket of confetti.

Leaning back in his chair, an unliving being began to rub at his throbbing temples with his fingertips in order to alleviate his sudden headache, with Angel beginning to wonder if atonement was actually worth all this. Finally bringing down one hand to wearily wave this at the outfit on the table before him, Angel tried again, "You're the one who brought up her name in the first place! If those clothes have nothing to do with Buffy, why would she enjoy seeing me in them, Harris?"

"Oh, that," gulped a relieved Xander, who then developed a superb poker face at what he'd just heard in the other male's voice. Just as an expert angler can tell from the merest tug upon their line that they've got a fish on their hook, there was presently the faintest trace of interest in Angel's voice. To further continue that metaphor, it was now time to reel in their catch. His thoughts racing, Xander inwardly brightened at the strategy he'd just gleefully come up with, barely managing to contain his giggles.

Instead, Xander casually informed the vampire leaning forward in his chair, "Look, Angel, one reason why people like to dress up on Halloween is to show a completely different face to everyone. They can get away on that holiday with presenting themselves in their costumes as someone else than their usual ordinary lives, not just to themselves, but to their friends, family, and especially to those people they'd like to impress. People such as those they're involved with in a relationship."

Drawing in a needed deep breath, Xander mentally congratulated himself, *Yeah, he's buying it. Time to go for the clincher.*

In his most serious tone, Xander told Angel, "Buffy herself is dressing up for you, and no, I'm not gonna tell you what she's wearing. You really think I wanna get stuffed down the nearest garbage can? But she wants to surprise you, and if you wear that costume there, you'll sure as blazes impress _her._ For one, putting it on shows that you've got an actual sense of humor and you're not afraid to laugh at yourself, or have other people laugh at you, 'cause you're willing to let them if it makes others happy."

"Um," commented a doubtful Angel, as he also cast an equally dubious glance at the colorful costume on the table. Still, the vampire hadn't flat out rejected anything just said by Xander, who was himself triumphantly thinking, *Okay, get the big net and the hooked pole ready, it's time to pull this sucker into the boat and then mount him over the fireplace.*

In a very confiding whisper that Xander was supremely certain the demon could hear, Angel was now told, "Best of all, Buffy _really_ loves that character. You wanna know how I found that out?"

Despite himself, a hypnotized Irishman lifted his eyebrows in expectation of an answer while Xander regarded him in calm approval, as the teenager went on to reveal all. "Well, a couple of weeks ago, me and Wils were hanging around one Saturday in Buffy's bedroom with her, when she was going through her closet for new clothes. In the middle of this, a doll wearing _that _was found by Willow in there!" At those excited words, Xander also pointed right at the costume lying in front of Angel, who glanced down in clear surprise at this. Looking up once more at Xander, the vampire saw the human himself firmly nodding in absolute assurance.

"See, we eventually got it out of the Buffinator that she'd always had that; in fact, it was probably the very first toy she could remember, and she kept it through everything in her life - growing up, becoming the Slayer, moving to Sunnydale. So, Angel, how'd you think Buffy would feel, seeing someone brave enough to wear that costume around her?"

As he finished his inspiring speech, Xander absently glanced at his watch, to then yelp in alarm, "Aw, geez! School's gonna start, and I have to go!" Spinning to hurriedly head for the stairs, Xander bounded up these steps, all while calling out over his shoulder at a taken-aback Angel over his visitor's abrupt departure. "I told you where we're gonna take the kids Snyder foisted on us, Angel, so you can find us tonight if you want to! Don't worry, I won't tell Buffy, so you'll be sure to really surprise her!"

Xander managed to get through the cellar door and slam it behind himself, in the middle of a shouted "XAN-!" by Angel, as the high school student then burst out of the Crawford Street mansion and headed towards his destination, all at a dead run. Still, after dashing along several city blocks at his fastest speed, more than enough distance to remove himself out of range of a vampire's sensitive hearing, Xander staggered to a bench in a deserted Sunnydale city park, dropped into this seat, wrapped his arms tightly around himself, and he howled with laughter at the top of his lungs.


	2. Chapter 2

Oh, for once in his life, he wasn't going to be fate's butt-monkey. Back when he'd picked out his Army fatigues at Ethan's Costume Shop for his Halloween clothes and gone to the store counter to pay for this outfit, Xander had been absolutely startled when that weird English dude had taken his money, and then in turn handed to the boy a small card coated with a thin layer of material, just like a scratch-off lottery ticket.

The shopkeeper (Ethan somebody himself) had then courteously explained these cards were random prizes for his customers, with whatever these lucky people winning being hidden under- Xander hadn't bothered listening to anything else, as he eagerly scraped the ticket with his thumbnail, to soon reveal on the face of the card the odd words: "2 for 1". Looking up into Ethan's beaming face - a rather chilling smile there, to be sure - a dazed Xander heard from the older man that for his prize, the teenager now had the choice of keeping his earlier purchase, or he could chose from the entire shop _any_ two other outfits, one for himself and one for anybody else the winner wanted to bestow upon with their second choice. Calling after a blur that had just headed deeper into the costume shop, Ethan had resignedly added the clearly-unheard proviso that these costumes had to fit their wearers; he wasn't going to alter anything.

Actually, Xander _had_ been listening, even though he'd been moving at nearly the speed of sound. So, after shifting through the men's costumes, he'd picked his own choice, and then he went again throughout the store's costumes for kids and women in order to find something for Willow. Enough with the ghost costume, already! However, during his search, Xander found that absolutely special outfit, remembered what had happened in Buffy's bedroom a while back, and immediately _knew_ that it was meant for nobody but Angel himself. Particularly, for whatever unfathomable reason, it was in that vampire's exact size.

The utterly incredulous look sent towards Xander by the proprietor when Ethan had seen the teenager lugging the pair of costumes towards the register counter had been more than enough to entertain the Sunnydale native, but it also caused Xander to totally miss how Ethan had worriedly eyed one outfit and then shifted his gaze to the other, only to then bemusedly shrug while the corners of the proprietor's mouth quirked in a quick flash of evil amusement.

Anyway, it'd all wound up with Xander on the park bench laughing until his ribs ached. The honest fact was, whatever his blonde friend's feelings were towards her childhood toy, Xander had _no_ idea whatsoever how Buffy was going to react if Angel actually showed up on Halloween night wearing that unbelievable costume in real life. In any case, the most likely outcome was for Xander Harris to enter a whole world of hurt, as two angry people grimly tracked him down with their supernatural abilities, to then physically express their furious opinions about his glorious prank.

Still, it'd be totally worth it, if he _did _manage to pull this off.

Glancing at his wristwatch again, and seeing that he really did have to get to school, a smirking Xander stood up from the park bench, and after looking around himself to check that he was still alone there, this boy now struck a very familiar pose of someone about to soar upwards in his flight through a city's skies, all while chanting to himself the mantra for the Halloween character he'd chosen for himself, who in his own comic universe would be more than a match for any Slayer and vampire:

"Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound!"


	3. Chapter 3

Angel cautiously walked through the Sunnydale night, doing his best to avoid falling flat on his face at every step. His careful gait was due to not only his new footwear of large, clunky brown shoes, but also a certain piece of apparel that the vampire had never previously worn before in his entire, centuries-long existence. Either as a living human, or an undead creature of the night. Struggling to ignore how his novel clothing shifted around his body, both rubbing against unexpected places and leaving exposed to the cool night air other formerly protected areas, Angel tried to distract himself with a mental pep talk that this wasn't so bad, even if he had to search through the quiet city streets for Buffy.

After Xander left, Angel had dithered throughout most of the day about whether to wear the costume or not, particularly when he'd lifted it off the table in order to examine it more closely, and discovered the rest of it, including the necessary makeup. Oddly enough, this last item had finally persuaded Angel to go along with the whole absurd proposal, since using this meant that nobody would recognize him at all. Once he'd slathered all of the greasepaint on his features and other exposed flesh, and then added the other theatrical cosmetics, plus the required accouterments and finally the costume itself, Angel had incredulously stared down at his form in his newest attire, which fit perfectly. After checking everything against the colorful picture on the brochure guide that had come along with the outfit, for the first time in his entire demonic existence, the vampire had then been truly thankful that he could no longer see his reflection in mirrors.

It'd taken the last of Angel's rapidly-vanishing stock of courage for him to venture out of the mansion, and he'd been about to bolt back into this building's sheltering cellar, when the very first encounter with other Halloween trick-or-treaters had taken place, right in front of his dwelling. As he'd stood there in paralyzed horror, the small group of kids in their own costumes escorted by parents outside in a rare, safe Sunnydale night had walked right by him on the sidewalk. The entire party had curiously eyed the tall man standing frozen in his absolutely accurate All-Hallows attire, and they'd then responded with…cheers and applause.

Well, even though the vampire had next heard from further down the block some of the younger children asking exactly who that had been, and after it'd been explained to them, nobody had anything bad to say about this, or even concerning him. Just admiring comments of how clever and funny it'd been to see someone dress up as that in so much detail. It'd all wound up with a remarkably relieved Angel, who in his ensuing travels through Sunnydale in his search for Buffy, had heard mostly the same thing about his evening wear from other costumed revelers on the streets.

As he passed through one of the town's mixed residential/commercial sections, Angel sniffed the air, and the vampire halted in his tracks at recognizing a truly familiar scent. Buffy had been around here just a few minutes ago! Let's see, the Slayer's scent was strongest in this direction-

At that very moment, a ceremony being held in the back room of Ethan's Costume Shop came to an end, with the concluding shouted word of "JANUS!"

In his mental prison deep inside the ensouled vampire's mind, a true monster immediately came awake, as his unknowing host at last experienced the exact conditions of the curse cast over a century ago by a Gypsy tribe furious over the murder of one of their own by the fiend calling himself Angelus. Taken over by the Chaos magic in his costume, Angel now underwent one moment of pure happiness.

Feeling his despised doppelganger vanish, Angelus burst into actual existence into the world once more, ravenous for blood and slaughter, inside a brain and body that was…that was…

Nobody at all - not Angel, Angelus, the Kalderash tribe, Whistler, the Powers That Be - had _ever_ pondered the potential loophole in the curse that just now occurred right then and there in the Sunnydale street: 'One _moment_ of pure happiness.'

What if it was a _lot_ longer than that?

Desperately trying and failing to gain control over a mind already occupied by a joyful personality forever in a state of permanent bliss, which didn't even begin to _notice_ something so different as Angelus currently sharing their consciousness, this evil creature began to writhe in his mental agony from being bathed in waves of pure, innocent delight that…just…wouldn't…STOP!

Finally, in a last frantic attempt to maintain his very survival, Angelus' suffering spirit hastily cast himself out of the euphoric psyche at that moment standing there on the Sunnydale sidewalk and giggling to themselves. The demon's monstrous essence then entirely vanished from the material plane, never to return, just as if he'd committed a mental act of suicide. Frankly, Angelus was more than willing to return to his former residence in Hell, even if it meant an eternity of roaming around that nightmare dimension as just another ineffectual wraith, since _anything _else was far better than what he'd just horribly undergone!

Oddly enough, the disappearance of Angelus at last managed to attract his oblivious tormentor's attention, as that person in their colorful garb now glanced around in honest puzzlement, a perky snub nose scrunched up in cute bewilderment, as an actual sensation of something not quite right was now inwardly experienced by this individual. Well, that was easy enough to fix. In a truly sincere chortle that rang throughout the night, a high-pitched voice having in its tone the chimes of tinkling bells merrily appealed, "I wish for a happy ending!"


	4. Chapter 4

Far away, in his own wish-granting dimension that he ruled, Lord D'Hoffryn was having a quiet night at home, what with going along with the demonic tradition that Halloween was a time to mind your own business and avoid those ridiculous humans dressing up in their mortifying attempts to imitate supernatural creatures. At present, this purple-scaled fiend was seated in the most comfortable chair inside his study and sipping at a very fine brandy that deserved far better treatment than being then directly hit by a bolt of mystical lightning from on high that now instantly traveled to ground itself into the startled demon aristocrat.

A couple of seconds later, a dazed D'Hoffryn found himself sitting on the scorched floor of his destroyed study, blinking vaguely through the clouds of black smoke that swirled around the room, as ashes that had a moment ago been his chair, his brandy glass, and his fine silk robe pattered down around himself. Slowly gathering his scattered wits, the anxious demon then used his powers to examine himself, to see just exactly what had caused that incredible burst of…

"Chaos magic," groaned D'Hoffryn in both his physical and mental agony, as the answer was revealed to him over that identified specific mystical energy that had recently struck from out of the blue, for whatever reason. Fearfully expecting something utterly catastrophic to then transpire, the demon seated on the floor waited for the next disaster. Only when nothing more happened after a long minute, D'Hoffryn finally staggered upwards onto his taloned feet, to then stumble out of the ruins of his study, in search of some more truly essential alcohol, as the dimensional ruler silently vowed to himself that if nobody else knew about this and nothing untoward came of the recent embarrassing events, he was going to totally ignore what had just occurred, and instead concentrate upon getting as speedily drunk as possible.

* * *

Back in Sunnydale, an immense flash of white light abruptly burst through Angel's brain, leaving that man swaying on his feet, as he panted for breath while worriedly pressing the palm of his right hand against the fabric covering his chest, as if to keep from escaping the throbbing heart that seemed as if it was about to leap out-

_Waaaaiiit_ a second. Breathing? A heartbeat? As Angel stared down in shock at his absurdly-clad body, he saw from the corner of his eye something that now absolutely caught his attention. Lifting up his head to look straight at the reflection in the store window that he'd found himself standing in front of this just a second ago, before everything had gone strange, the Irishman now beheld what he never truly dreamed was ever possible.

Someone once named Liam, and then Angelus, who changed this to Angel, had somehow become mortal again. And this utterly human son of the auld sod was now clad in a pink, embroidered sunbonnet hat with a replica of a fruit pinned upon this headwear, itself placed on top of a fire-engine red wig falling down the sides of the aghast man's head, pink greasepaint thickly applied to his face with pale red rouge circles on his cheeks, even more greasepaint slathered upon his bare arms and upper chest bursting out of a bright, colorful, short sundress having over this a crisply-starched white apron with three embroidered green hearts on the front, identically-white bloomers, vertically-striped green and white stockings (there seemed to be some kind of theme going on with these colors), and a pair of big, awkward brown shoes.

Ang- No. He was Liam again, he knew this deep in his very bones, his absolutely humiliated bones, but the human just stood there in his sheer shock, as he frantically tried to figure out what the hell had happened-

"Hello there, cutie-pie," came drifting from somewhere on Liam's right, spoken in an absolutely leering tone. As the man's head in his poofy hat snapped around to stare at where three persons were clustered together on the sidewalk past the shop, the trio of demons located there also shared the same identical lascivious looks directed right at the Crawford Street resident. Liam instantly knew his unwelcome company were demons instead of other costumed people; he even recognized them all.

During Angel's previous forays into Willy's Bar, a local watering hole serving the supernatural community of Sunnydale, to shake down the barkeep for information, the vampire had then casually glanced around that establishment and dismissed with utter contempt those lesser demons in the back that had cowered under their caller's cold stare, bestowed by someone with an immensely terrifying reputation. Unfortunately, now that he was fully human again, Liam knew himself to be no match at all even for third-rate scum like those there that had evidently ventured out on the city's streets tonight for Halloween. It didn't help at all that the familiar unwanted sensations from long ago were now fully introducing themselves once more in the Irishman's cowardly mind and body.

Desperately trying to control both his bladder and his voice, Liam now stuttered, "Look- Look, you've got the wrong idea…," only to trail off in horror at the sound of the frightened squeak from his mouth that had been uttered at the start of his words, which had then abruptly changed into his usual masculine rumble.

The wide smiles slowly appearing upon the unearthly features of the three demons didn't cheer up Liam's mood at all, particularly when the spokesperson for that grotesque group then jovially informed the former vampire, "Oh, don't be so scared, honeybunch! Luckily for you, all of us swing both ways, so why don't we find someplace private and get to know each other better?"

His mouth falling open to reveal pink greasepaint-stained teeth, Liam stared in absolute revulsion at the trio of demons beginning to step closer, and when their leader at the forefront of the pack of monsters now actually _winked _at the human, that was more than enough. In a swirl of skirts that naughtily revealed his bloomers, Liam spun around, and he promptly ran for his- Well, perhaps not for his life, but definitely for his supposed virtue.


	5. Chapter 5

As the sprinting man dashed down the Sunnydale sidewalk, closely pursued by three demons calling out loving endearments during their chase after the target for tonight with those superlatively tight buns in his absolutely darling costume, several miles overhead in the night sky above the California city, fingers that could crush lumps of coal into diamonds hastily clapped themselves over a pair of Kryptonian lips, just in time to prevent a gale of laughter from escaping that would've surely shattered windows throughout the entire town.

The mental passenger inside Superman's mind had no such inhibitions. Xander Harris was flat on his non-physical back, clutching at his ribs while roaring with hilarity at the top of his unreal lungs, as he hugely enjoyed his sharing of Clark Kent's observing with his telescopic vision the supremely absurd event taking place down there. As both snickering individuals in their single body continued their gratifying scrutiny, Xander eventually giggled, *Oh, where's Jimmy Olsen with his ever-present camera when you really need him?*

Just barely keeping his own snorts of mirth under control, the superhero with a very famous costume and floating in mid-air, his red cape slowly flapping in the night breeze, now managed to utter, in an increasingly serious tone, "Xander, as much fun as this is, I do have to return to my own life. So, it's time to go to that, er, guy's rescue-"

*Pleeeease! Just a few more minutes! I mean, it's not like you have anything else to do now!*

At that teenager's unreservedly heartfelt mental appeal, the corners of Superman's mouth lifted in a rare sardonic smile. Still, the Man of Steel admitted to himself, in a private corner of his own consciousness, that Xander had an actual point.

* * *

When the last son of Krypton had somehow been instantly conveyed from flying over Metropolis during a fine spring day into a small California city on Halloween night there, Superman had straightaway shifted into speedily existing a thousand times faster than normal, allowing time to pass more rapidly for himself than this occurred in the rest of the town's reality. Now that he had more than enough time to properly investigate just what had happened without being overtaken by events elsewhere, Superman started by interrogating the unexpected visitor in his own mind.

After resignedly working through Xander's fan-boy daze, Clark ("Yes, you can use my first name; just please stop gibbering, will you?") had spent a few more minutes in accelerated time, with less than a second occurring for the rest of Sunnydale, mulling over what he'd just learned from that awe-struck teen, and then Jonathan and Martha Kent's adopted child had confidently gone to work.

After traveling throughout all of Sunnydale at superspeed to identify and capture all those people who'd regrettably bought one of Ethan Rayne's costumes (Clark would never match Batman's detective prowess, but the Daily Planet reporter _did_ have some experience in figuring things out. "Yes, Alfred is just as impressive as he's shown in the comics."), those unfortunate individuals were detained in comfortable, protective custody to keep them safe from harm, either from themselves or incurring this to the unchanged populace. Which included Xander's friends. During all of this, a fascinated Superman also encountered at first hand Sunnydale Syndrome when other costumed revelers in the city speedily forgot about tonight's events, and the hero started to wonder why he wasn't himself influenced by this.

An overjoyed Xander managed to tone down a bit his enthusiasm about everything, to then hesitantly suggest that since they were sharing the same consciousness and the Sunnydale native's memory wasn't affected, maybe this protection was also shared. After receiving an actual compliment from honkin' S*U*P*E*R*M*A*N over that excellent insight, Xander stopped hugging himself in his sheer delight, to again diffidently propose that, uh, maybe, the big guy might as well, if it wasn't too much trouble…

A very amused DC Comics character good-naturedly assured that young man, "I'm already planning this, Xander. It's a good thing the dimensional barriers here in this place are pretty weak, anyway, since I have to use this world's technology. Now, just relax, and enjoy it all."

Over the next few hours for them both, as a second or two passed for the rest of Sunnydale, an effective-enough Phantom Zone projector was built and used by Superman upon every single bellicose vampire, demon, and other unearthly creatures having any malevolent plans whatsoever for the normal humans of Sunnydale. As advised by the busy hero, Xander kept quiet and refrained from disturbing Superman at his work, save for one sole exception of those evildoers that were presently being sent as insubstantial spirits into another dimension, never to return or to affect events in Sunnydale ever again. Not wanting an actual temper tantrum inside his head, an exasperated Superman reluctantly did something that made a teenage boy much happier than he'd been for the last few weeks.

* * *

Spike _really _hated Halloween. Even if he hadn't already despised a holiday that had soddin' humans swank about like they were real monsters, the British vampire now totally loathed his current situation during this specific festival, that had gone from one second of peacefully working upon his latest plan to kill the Slayer, into the very next moment of one way or another incomprehensibly changing him into some type of ghost that had been stripped of every stitch of clothing except for his boxers, his head shaved absolutely bald, and a message drawn upside-down in indelible ink upon his bare tummy for Spike to easily read: WITH LOVE & KISSES FROM THE SCOOBY GANG.


	6. Chapter 6

Xander's incessant giggles over what he'd successfully nagged a superhero into doing stopped only when this irritated Kryptonian completed the second-to-last element of their plan. After the Mayor of Sunnydale disappeared into non-existence without even a final "Golly!" coming from that century-old sorcerer, with Richard Wilkins III now facing the certainty of an entirely different (and unasked-for) type of immortality, a satisfied Superman then destroyed the Phantom Zone projector, crushing it in his bare hands into a marble-sized metal and plastic ball.

Flipping that small globe into the office wastebasket, Superman then blurred out of the politician's workplace, effortlessly soaring up into the Sunnydale night sky, as a more-cheerful founding member of the Justice League now informed the calmer boy in his head, "Xander, all that's left is to tie up a few loose ends, and then it'll be time for us to say goodbye."

A resigned reply was mentally sent from that addressed high school student, *You really can't do anything about the Hellmouth itself?*

This question produced a regretful shake of Superman's head, with the famous curl of hair remaining undisturbed by that action, as the bad news was once more confirmed. "That thing's still too mystically powerful. I don't even dare go near it, or the magic coming from there will affect me just like any other human. Still, now that the Mayor isn't directly controlling the Boca del Infierno, plus that all the other bad guys are gone from here, I think your hometown will be a lot more peaceful and safer for a while."

An accepting sigh came puffing from insubstantial lips, as Xander's psychic form shrugged in acknowledgment of the older man's comments. *Okay, gotcha. Anyway, thanks for everything you did tonight, cleaning up the town and collecting those costumes- Awww, _crap!_*

"What?" snapped Superman, as he abruptly halted in his flight, not liking at all the sound of his companion's mortified yelp.

Xander sheepishly said, *Er, there's one more costume left that I took from Ethan's and forgot about, so it might have changed-*

Superman groaned out loud, and then he firmly informed the now-quiet teenager inside the Smallville native's head, "Why didn't you say something before? Now, we have to- WHAT?" That last word was barked in a tone of combined exasperation and bewilderment at the sudden outburst of mental laughter coming from Xander.

*HA, HA, HA, HA!* guffawed the high school student, who finally managed to calm down enough to inform an annoyed Superman, *I really wasn't sure he'd actually wear it, but I'll show you where he lives, and if Angel's not there, he _has _to be somewhere on the streets in that silly costume, looking for Buffy!*

As he swooped down towards the town below in preparation for another city-wide search, a bemused superhero had to ask, "Just what did he dress up as, anyway?"

* * *

Several minutes later, while both of the chortling people sharing a single body watched the hilarious events taking place beneath themselves, Superman genially chuckled, "I really hate to spoil the fun, but enough's enough. How about we wait and let him get to the end of the block, and then break things up? After that, I'll do one last check of the affected Halloween people, and then it'll be time to deal with Ethan."

A sniggering Xander Harris watched a former vampire (and wasn't that totally weird?) determinedly outstripping his pursuers, and then regretfully agreed, knowing that the memories of all this would still stay with him forever, lifting up his spirits through the bad times. *Yeah, okay. Boy, Angel's showing a really good turn of speed, considering he's probably never run a hundred-yard dash in a dress before, much less in a Strawberry Shortcake costume.*


	7. Epilogue

Later that night, after receiving a very strange phone call, Giles rushed over to the costume shop to find his former friend Ethan lying on the floor of the store, his entire body wrapped in steel bars and also gagged, next to a small mound of rubble from a destroyed Janus bust, with Xander in his Superman costume gleefully bouncing spitballs off the infuriated shopkeeper's forehead. Ethan was discreetly picked up by some Council operatives, never to be seen again, and those who'd bought costumes from him lost not only whatever abilities these outfits gave them, but also the memories of a very strange Halloween night. Which included the Scooby Gang, to varying degrees.

However, Angel was an unique case. The wish magic done by Strawberry Shortcake was permanent, causing that vampire to remain in his human form. Unfortunately, whatever assistance Angel was able to provide the Scoobies in helping safeguard the Hellmouth didn't carry over at all with Liam, who proved to be the same jerk he'd been centuries before, a cowardly lecher who mooched off anyone in his vicinity.

After being loudly dumped by Buffy, who'd finally understood the difference between an 'unattainable, tormented romance between the Slayer and a really-sexy dark stranger who just happens to be a vampire' and 'underage high school student and creepy pedophile stalker', having his ass thoroughly kicked by Xander on a regular basis, and being utterly terrified of encountering again those three Sunnydale demons eager to get their clawed hands upon his bruised yet still absolutely fine rear, Liam hurriedly left town, aided by an exasperated Giles setting up a fake identity for him and a modicum of cash.

After drifting around Los Angeles for a few years, with a sideline in being a gigolo, Liam's most recent conquest, an infatuated television executive, used her influence that eventually resulted in Liam Ryan becoming a wildly popular judge for a reality television show, what with his truly charming brogue and his ability to deliver the most vicious comments about the contestants appearing before him.

Oh, the specific television show?

'American Idol.'


End file.
